


Meldings

by Rileyspork



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Amputation, Biracial Character, Blind Character, Canon Disabled Character, Communication Failure, Disability, Drift Bond, Drift Side Effects, F/M, Gen, Genderqueer Character, Hermann Gottlieb Has MS, Hurt/Comfort, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Multi, Pre-Threesome, Self Confidence, Sickfic, The Drift (Pacific Rim), The Kaidanovskys didn't die, Threesome - F/M/Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:58:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1949100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rileyspork/pseuds/Rileyspork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt has been having side effects of the drift for months, but it isn't until an accident while studying kaiju remains that things start to get really weird, in a way that will threaten the entire Pacific Rim. On the other hand, his connection to the precursors isn't the only bond growing stronger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Splash

**Author's Note:**

> Theoretically, this will be about five chapters, and 10,000 words. Theoretically.

Raiju is the last kaiju to be recovered. It is brought into the shatterdome on June18th, 2025. It had to be hauled into the jager bay, because its bloated, almost unrecognizable corpse will not fit anywhere else. It is the second whole kaiju Newt has gotten to study, after Otachi’s baby, because Hannibal Chau is no longer around to harvest it preemptively. It is remarkably well preserved, having been chilled at the bottom of the ocean, kaiju decomposition being dependant on exposure to heat and air.

Newt was asleep when the call came in, after being up through the night helping Hermann by climbing the ladder and writing equations for him–since the drift Hermann’s MS had been unforgiving of late nights. Newt had fallen asleep under Hermann’s desk, his head on the book he had been reading.

Hermann woke him with a foot to the shoulder, nudging him gently and holding the phone down where he could make a sleepy grab for it. Newt sat up, yawning as he replied to the soldier in charge of dragging a thirty five thousand ton Kaiju into the shatterdome. As he sat there, he noticed that there were pink lines on Hermann’s face–he too had fallen asleep in his notes, apparently.

Handing Hermann the phone, he got to his feet, rubbing his face roughly.

“Would you like assistance?”

Newt smiled at his lab partner, “yeah, man, that’d be awesome.”

Hermann levered himself to his feet, shakily, leaning hard on cane and desk. Newt stepped close, offering an arm. Hermann hesitated, but took it on his weak side.

“Thank you.”

Newt nodded, enjoying the weight of his friend. Something had broken, when they drifted. Some rule Hermann held himself to with everyone but Vanessa. It made Newt even more impressed by his partner’s wife than he had been before. She had gotten through that impenetrable barrier without the assistance of ten thousand dollars of mind-melding technology.

Going with Hermann took much longer than it would have if Newt had gone by himself, but it was infinitely more fun. They had been invisible, now they were inescapably conspicuous. Not exactly positively, necessarily, but still. The passers by might miss Newt, one of hundreds of short, scruffy nerds in the building, but Hermann cut a much more recognizable figure and people _stared_.

Hermann halted, and Newt stopped half a pace later, realized he had been paying more attention to the people watching him, than to the man he was helping not fall over, “what’s up?”

“Is the ground shaking or is just me?”

Newt frowned. He hadn’t noticed, but Hermann was right. There was a low, growing vibration, definitely coming from the direction of the jager bay.

Hermann extracted his arm from Newt’s grip, taking an only slightly unsteady step towards the wall, “go.”

Newt nodded, and _ran_. People ran past him, in the opposite direction.

He skidded around the corner, shoving through the last of the fleeing soldiers. Raiju was swelling, the ropes and chains that had secured it to a massive pallet dug into its flesh, distorting it into bulging lumps. Newt only had the presence of mind to close his mouth, before the exploding corpse knocked him back, and he knew no more.

 

Newt drifted. He was in a blue sea, his mind hurt. Something was wrong, where was Hermann? He tried to look around, tried to open his eyes. The antiverse stretched before him, figures loomed over him, their clicking and purring echoing oddly in the landscape of his mind. He shrunk away from them, but they seemed almost as put off by him as he was by them.

They flinched and scattered, Newt turned his head to look at what had scared them, and melted with relief. Hermann, standing tall and straight. Newt went to him, fisted his hands against taller figure’s chest, “why does it hurt?”

Hermann wrapped arms around him, held him, solid and strong, discipline to Newton’s chaos, but didn’t answer. Blackness grew, and overtook the world. It was a blue blackness.

“NEWTON!”

Newt gasped. His body burned. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t sit.

“Newton, Newton...” Hermann started a shocking string of German curses.

“Herms...” he gasped the word. He was wet and cold and dark, something was spraying him in the face. He spit..

“Dr. Gottleib, is he awake?”

That was Hercules Hanson’s voice, coming from miles away.

“Yes sir.”

“Is he injured?”

“I do not know yet.”

The only warmth in the world shifted under him, and he realized he was lying in Hermann’s lap, face up.

“Are you hurt, Newton? Is anything painful?”

“I... well yeah.”

“What is injured?”

Newt moved his limbs experimentally. Nothing seemed more dysfunctional than anything else. An uncomfortable trembling buzzing filled his veins, though.

“No...I don’t...everything hurts but I don’t think I’m really hurt. What happened?”

“The kaiju exploded. The internal pressure of the decomposition, the straps stressing the outer skin...”

“Are they going to get the lights back on?”

The shatterdome didn’t exactly have windows, so any power outage was vaguely disastrous for anyone hoping to use the visual spectrum.

“What?” Hermann’s voice was flat and confused.

“The...oh...oh...”

He had taken a face full of kaiju blue.

He knew Hermann could feel his growing panic. He could feel the other man in his mind, the strong figure less strong and his impression becoming bile and dead grass with fear. Hermann’s physical hands gripped him, one under his armpit, the other under his chin, pulling him further into Hermann’s lap and angling his face a certain way. Skin slid on skin, and he realized both of them were naked.

They were in a decontamination shower. Hermann’s fingers spread his left eyelid, then his right.

“There is...um...” Hermann fell silent. Newt didn’t need him to go on. The image of Newt’s blue-stained corneas was burning in Hermann’s mind.

“Sir, we will need medical assistance,” called Hermann, hollowly.

 

July 9th, 2025

Newt woke to a happy gurgling sound. He reached down to itch where the crappy med-bay blanket was folded under his leg, but found wires and tubes in his way. He tried to untangle them, but was pretty sure he only made it worse.

“I got it, hold on.”

An English woman’s voice–deep and slightly hoarse, but sweet.

“Vanessa?”

“Yes. I got here this morning.”

Newt relaxed, and lifted his arm obediently when Vanessa tugged it.

“Okay, your bonds have been lifted.”

Another giggle.

Newt cheered immediately, “you brought Isaac?”

“It was that or pump about a billion bottles of milk and trust my little terror to Bastien, so...yes. Here.”

A squirming weight was deposited on Newt’s stomach. He found upper limbs with his hands, and sat the baby up, bouncing him a little. Issac giggled and wiggled. Newt grinned.

“Hermann’s evaluating the damage to the jager bay.”

Newt nodded, and lifted Isaac to his face, blowing a raspberry into the baby’s cheek.

“How are you?”

Newt sighed, some of the glee at finally meeting Hermann’s spawn fading to the color of general frustration. Not depression, not sorrow, not really all that much angst. Just a whole lot of frustration.

“Well, better than I was the first week. They’re letting me go soon. Which they could have done about five minutes after they brought me in, but nooooo...”

“That’s not what Hermann said. To hear him tell it you might die if you get up to pee.”

“Hermann is composed of eight tenths grandmother mixed with a graphing calculator.”

Vanessa laughed. So did Isaac.

“Well,” Newt conceded, “my kidneys did almost shut down from the Kaiju blue toxicity. But they _didn’t_ and I’ve been peeing fine for two days, thank you very much.” Also the rest of his digestive system, and most of it hadn’t recovered, but he didn’t need to tell Vanessa that, when even Hermann didn’t know.

 

 

July 11th, 2025

Newt sat on the floor in the hallway, his head back against the cool wall. He was exhausted. He refused to admit to anyone, especially Hermann that he wasn’t 100%. He was more like 86%, which wasn’t that bad, and given his starting point was so awesome, he was definitely still fine and better than most people and there was no reason for anyone to worry about him at all.

He was also lost and too tired to get up. So there was that.

Maybe not 86%.

He was supposed to have gone from his quarters to the mess, and meet Hermann, Vanessa and Isaac for breakfast, which he couldn’t actually eat much of. The last location he had identified had been the laundry, and that was about as not where he was supposed to be as you could get. That had also been an hour ago.

He heard a door open, and shrunk down a little. He should have asked for help when he was just lost, not waited until he was lost and pathetically tired.

“Little doctor?”

Momentarily put off by that greeting, he then recognized the accent, and decided he was pretty okay with being called little by a man who had to duck in several places in the _jager bay_ , “Lt. Kaidanovsky?”

“Hello little doctor. Why are you on the floor?”

“I...um...”

“Are you ill?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

“You were injured, yes? The big...splash?” Aleksis seemed to have been working for a different description but was failed by his not entirely complete grasp of English. Still better than Newt’s Russian by like a lot.

“Yes.”

“Then I will help.”

And Newt was in the air.

“Where were you going?”

“The mess hall...but that was three hours ago, so...”

“You are lost?”

Newt nodded.

“Where would you like to go?”

“K-science, I guess.”

“But you did not get to eat?”

“No, but–“

“Then you will eat.”

And they were moving. And Aleksis was booming in Russian. Right next to Newt’s face.

“Aleksis, put him down.” that was Sasha.

Aleksis answered in Russian, and obliged, depositing Newt on what seemed to be a bunk.

So he was by the pilot quarters? He had come almost full circle then, only a floor below his own room.

An object was shoved into his hands–an apple. He felt his cheeks warm, “um, thank you, but I can’t...”

He offered the apple back, into empty space apparently, because nobody took it.

“Cannot what?” asked Aleksis.

“Solid food. I can’t...um, digest it yet.”

“From the kaiju blue poisoning, yes?” Sasha.

“Yes.”

“But wet food?” asked Aleksis.

Newt nodded, as one of the Kaidanovskys took the apple back from him. He put his face in his hands, as he heard a fridge open and close.

“Here,” Aleksis’s enormous hand took his, and pressed a cup into it.

Newt sipped. It was buttermilk, of all things. It was good. And probably very good for his recovering digestive system, as well.

“Drink and rest, little doctor. I will help you go to K-Science later.”

Newt drank, because he didn’t know what else to do. A strange, uncomfortably warm rush filled his head, as he started to get sleepy.

The Precursors peer down at him, their terrifying _otherness_ weighing him down. It’s like trying to stare down a silverfish, except the silverfish is the one standing over you, clicking and humming. The one with the highest head plate reaches down to him, its strange, protracted arm seeming to stretch as it reached. The point grew nearer and nearer to Newt’s face.

“Little doctor!”

Newt screamed in response. Except no sound came, and his throat hurt very badly for trying, like it wasn’t the first time he had screamed. Huge hands were on his body, but they did not crush him. They cupped his cheek, and rubbed his chest, and wiped sweat and tears from his face.

“Easy, little doctor. You are alright. You are safe.”

He panted. Aleksis Kaidanovsky lifted Newt’s upper body, and slipped in behind him, holding him around the chest with enormous arms. Newt was uncomfortable with the large Russian’s choice of comfort, but it still helped.

“What was that?” asked Sasha, from somewhere else in the room.

Newt was still too shaken to answer.

Aleksis suggested something, but it was a Russian word Newt didn’t know.

“It looked like it. But that does not make sense. Does it, Dr. Geiszler?”

“I...don’t know that word,” he managed to mumble, though he was incredibly hoarse.

“You were drifting. Not a drift hangover. You were actually drifting,” accused Sasha.

Newt didn’t know how to answer that, so he didn’t. Instead he passed out.


	2. Ignition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermann has some realizations and the main plot starts. Also Hermann is not good at people.

The exact moment Hermann knew what he wanted to do with his life, he was four years old, as the plane took off from Augsburg airport. That probably would have worked better if he hadn’t been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis at age sixteen.

Since then, he had been in many airplanes, some rides rather more thrilling than others. The flight into Vladivostok had been one of the more exciting flights. A blizzard had been conceived in their flight path, nearly downing their chopper. The world had spun, jerked, and flipped before him.

That was essentially the same feeling he was getting now, but created by plaques in his brain, not winds in Siberia. Instead of a shatterdome and snow, his tilting view was of Vanessa helping Newton type up his mysterious drift in the Kaidanovsy’s quarters.

Unaware of the carnival ride Hermann was experiencing, Isaac was happy in his arms, finishing his bottle, the plastic still warm in Hermann’s hand. Isaac fussed, Hermann burped him. It was definitely time for his son’s nap.

Hermann could have done with his own nap, after four hours spent searching for Newt throughout the shatterdome. Aleksis’s large arm had dwarfed the biologist it supported, as he had lead Newton into k-science. Sasha had explained what they thought they had seen, Newton drifting without any equipment, and with the Precursors.

The pilots had left the scientists, and Hermann had called Vanessa back to k-science. Newton had sat at his desk. He looked tired, but had at least slept for an hour after the drift, before Aleksis had brought him home. He still had the trace of a nosebleed on his upper lip.

“I suppose it was fortuitous that the kaidanovskys were in a good mood,” commented Hermann, as Isaac settled in to sleep across his lap.

Newton raised his head, frowning, “no, they’re always nice. That's why I was so happy when they recovered Cherno Alpha and they were alive. I mean, they’re kind of scary but nice scary not mean scary or...”

Hermann tuned out newton’s continued rambling about the Russians’ temperament, since the flashes of his partner’s memories were far more instructive. Newton arriving at the Vladivostok shatterdome, being driven into town and gifted with an appropriately warm coat.

With a pang, Hermann realized Newton had done the same thing for him, six months later. That it had meant something significant to Newton. Granted, the Kaidanovsky’s version had resulted in a coat that actually fit Newton, rather than the big green monstrosity Hermann had walked away with. But that was Newton. He might not think something through, but his intentions were nearly always admirable.

Newton yawed, and the flashes Hermann was getting changed. They moved away from warm memories of a department store in Russia, and into cold green and blue, deep ocean and prickly, reaching pain. Reaching not even into his mind, but his limbs, his chest, his lungs.

A desperate look around, searching for someone who wasn’t there.

“Hermann?”

That wasn’t Newton’s voice in the here and now, in Hermann’s ears in K-sceince. It was Newton’s memory of the drift. He was reliving it as he narrated it for Vanessa to type. As good a touch typist as Newton was, even he couldn’t operate the projected light and motion sensor keyboard that served his advanced workstation when he couldn’t see it.

Hermann closed his eyes as the room spun more violently. He gingerly laid his head back against the rest of his chair. Newton was scared in his memories. His instinct was to call for Hermann, to look for his friend. It was clear from the recollections that Newton didn’t even expect Hermann to be able to help him. He just longed to face the terrifying wasteland before him with his friend in his mind.

He wasn’t the only one. In the weeks since the drift, walking through hallways, people staring... Hermann had rarely been alone. Newton beside him, inside him, had made the awful bearable. Not that Newton had necessarily even known how much it normally bothered Hermann when people watched him. But sharing Newton’s mind, Hermann had been able to retreat into a different version of the experience, Newton’s in addition to his own.

It is very similar to how the kaiju think. As individuals connected to form a many. They have their own selves. But they draw strength, understanding, knowledge, and comfort from their collective. They also view themselves as valuable because of their participation in it.

Hermann felt a heat rise in his cheeks. He, for once in his life, had his own little collective. His wife, friend, and son. He might not ever be effusive. But he very much intended to participate. Especially when he puffed with pride even at the thought of

 

It is an odd thing, to find quiet where there should be anything but. Hermann Gottlieb works in a shatterdome. He has a nine month old son. He works with Newton Geiszler–is _mind linked_ to Newton Geiszler.

His life should not be quiet at any point.

It is quiet now. The air is heavy and still, stale in his mouth as he draws breath. Dust cakes his face, his tongue, as he sits up. He tries to brush it from his front, it covers his hands.

He sees nothing. He hopes he is not blind like Newton. His chest tightens hard as he remembers the frustration that burns in Newton’s.

Newton. Panic. Where is Newton. Where is his friend. Where is his other mind. Where are the feelings and security and frustration and _never ceasing thoughts._

Where are the Precursors.

How is he now realizing he isn’t connected to them. How was he ever connected to them?

He hears something.

A shift. Then a cry.

The last he saw Isaac...

The last he saw Isaac, Newton was snatching him from his playpen as Vanessa ran to them, taking the hand that wasn’t scooping a baby, leading him at a run towards Hermann, as the Shatterdome rumbled and the lights flickered, fire blooming from the door. Vanessa pushing Newton down, slamming together with him, as they formed a human shield above Isaac, against the flames.

Hermann got onto his hands and knees. Many things hurt much of the time, but this hurt in different ways than usual. He crawled forward, hands searching. He moved towards the sound of the baby crying. He found an ankle. Not a child’s ankle, nor a Vanessa ankle. A Newton ankle.

The sound of the baby was close, though. A foot or two away. He followed’s Newton’s body–Newton’s warm, breathing, dusty body–up to the shoulders, and found, half under Newton’s arm, his son.

Gently, he lifted Isaac from under his friend. He held his baby on his shoulder, bouncing gently until the crying stopped. He started searching again. He scooted forward, reached with his free hand, repeated the process.

There was Vanessa, still as live as Newton. He shook her. She moaned, and started to wake. He did the same for Newton. Newton took longer to rouse.

With his waking, came everything. Hermann’s missing parts were there, all the bits of his mind that were in Newton, all the bits of Newton that were in him.

“Hermann?”

“I’m here, Vanessa. So are Isaac and Newton.”

His wife wrapped her arms around his body, careful of Isaac, burying her face in his neck. She was trembling, and smelled of cooked flesh and burned hair.

Newton didn’t need to ask. He knew what Hermann knew.

Newton was hurt. Memory of why flooded Hermann as Newton revisited it.

Hermann’s head was spinning, with the muddled and inseparable memories, the falling dust, and bad air.

“We need to get out.”

Hermann nodded, which was stupid, because only Newton-Hermann knew he nodded in the dark lab, and he had been responding to Vanessa’s question.

A realization. In Newton’s confusion, he felt what had been missing earlier. The Precursors.

They were linked to Newton.

Somehow the three of them got to their feet. Vanessa hissed in pain, but took Isaac from him as he threatened to fall right back down.

“I can get us out,” said Newton, quietly, taking Hermann’s arm.

“How? Even the emergency lights are out,” blurted Hermann, before pausing, “please pretend I was momentarily concussed.”

“Nope,” said Newton, with a small laugh, tugging him forward.

Vanessa followed, her baby-less hand gripping his elbow, helping steady him.

She was breathing hard. He knew she had been burned, but she would have said if it was severe...

They made it into the hallway. The lift was dark. Newton pulled them towards the stairs.

They had covered four flights when Hermann found himself shoved down, a baby pressed into his arm. Isaac started to wail. So did Vanessa, much more quietly. Newton’s warmth left Hermann’s side, Hermann could hear gentle sounds of flesh and fabric.

“Vanessa...” he felt nauseous. She was hurt.

“It’s just pain. I’m not that badly injured....” her protest came as a whisper.

Hermann set his jaw, “Newton, get her out, I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll come back for you.”

“I know.”

“Do not,” her voice was suddenly titanium.

Hermann shut his mouth.

“Vanessa, he’s right–“

“No. He’s getting out of here and getting far away with our son as soon as humanly possible.”

“...what are you planning to do at that point?” asked Hermann, quietly.

If he was in her mind, could he stop her? Could he make Newton help him stop her against the biologist’s will? That would be wrong. But...

Newton returned to his side, “I’ll clear the path ahead. I can move faster by myself, and it’ll be easier when you come through.”

“I’m not an invalid–“ he started, hotly, then heard a series of four clicking sounds. He stopped, shoulders dropping a few inches. To his knowledge, Newton had yet to use the white cane outside of his training with it.

“No, you’re not. You’re just an idiot. Vanessa, I’ll take Isaac if that helps.”

“That would be good, Newton.”

Newt crouched beside Hermann, gently taking the boy named obliquely after him into his arms.

Hermann mused that he had never told Newton that. Maybe he should, when they got to the surface. Or maybe he shouldn’t, because clearly Newton obviously doesn’t need the encouragement. Except Hermann would like to see the look on his face. But that doesn’t matter, it’s not appropriate.

Vanessa’s hands cupped his cheeks, drawing him out of his conflict, “chin up, heart. Let’s go.”

She hauled him to his feet. His arm encircled her shoulders. His hand touched her right arm, and flinched away from the bubbled and burned flesh, just as she gasped and almost buckled.

 

Hermann does not want to reach the sunlight. His wife will dive back below to save people she has never met. He will be stuck at the surface to mind the child. He will see Vanessa’s burns and then watch her go back below to save people he cannot help.

It is a hard thing to swallow, after years at the center of the people saving the world.

“The air smells different. Vanessa, can you see anything?”

He raised his head. There was light, illuminating Newton’s straight back and mussed hair from above. He had to smile. He felt useless and miserable himself. But Newton felt confident and proud, leading them to safety.

With a pang, Hermann realized Newton was going to go with Vanessa. He wouldn’t stay when he was burning with admiration for a woman he was shamed to have...not liked? Not that, exactly. Not anything wrong with her. Just her situation.

Newton was _jealous_ of her. Of Hermann’s _wife._ Hermann felt his mouth open, but did not allow himself to speak.

Vanessa hauled upwards, and they made it the last few steps to join Newton at the surface, before Hermann let go and collapsed onto his rear.

Newton fell to his knees beside them, dropping his cane so he could reach out, searching, while still holding Isaac safe against his shoulder.

Hermann impulsively gripped his forearm, clasped it limply as he realized what he had done. Shock radiated through Newton’s experience of the handshake.

Vanessa moaned, dropping to hands and knees, head hanging. Hermann let go, reaching across the gap between them, though he was nowhere near close enough. Newton was already in motion, setting Isaac in the leather coat he stripped from his back, and crossing to Vanessa’s side.

Newton’s hands held Vanessa’s upper arms, as he steered her to lay on her unburned side. She was shaking, and Newton supported her as much as guided. He pulled her remaining garments to the side, and raised his head, “Hermann? How bad is it?”

Hermann swallowed. With the removal of his coat, Hermann had gotten a look at Newton’s own burns. They were not as severe as Vanessa’s, and covered a much smaller area, but they were grade two, three in places.

They were badly injured enough he might be able to convince them to stay. Immediately, he felt guilty for relief at his collective’s collective injuries. He stuck out his jaw, stubbornly, against the unwelcome emotion. Besides, they weren’t _his_ , he didn’t have the right to think of them as his collective. He didn’t have the right to ask them to stay

He crawled, undignified and unsteady on hands and knees. He cradled Vanessa’s head in his lap, stroked her wild frizz, as the pain took her and she started to cry so hard she retched.

Hermann felt a deep ache in the pit of his stomach, and knew it didn’t come from himself. Nor did the pain that flared on his back, as if worsening in response to the emotional hurt Newton was experiencing.

“Newton,” Hermann called stiffly, uncertain but desperate to incentivize his friend to stay aboveground, “bring Isaac here.”

Newton scrambled to his feet, navigating the way back with three sweeps of his cane. He crouched beside Hermann, offering Isaac in his arms. Isaac gurgled happily, too young to register their small world’s collapse.

Hermann reached out, tugged on Newton’s less burned arm.

Newton obliged, slowly. He scooted to sit next to Hermann. Hermann nudged him. Newton melted, laying his head on Hermann’s shoulder. Hermann immediately felt anxious, but wasn’t about to be so cruel as to pull away.

“Nobody is going on any rescue missions. Everybody is going to stay right here, and help the rescue crews when they get here. Nobody is leaving. I will not _allow it_.” his voice cracked at the end, and he shut his mouth, shamefaced.

To Vanessa’s eternal credit, she understood his obviously entirely ineffectual attempt at expressing his affections, and didn’t hit him. Instead she reached out, taking a fold of Newton’s torn shirt in her shaking fingers. Newton’s mouth twisted with conflicting reactions, and he ducked his head.

Hermann tipped his face upwards, watching as jets started to scream overhead. The dome of the Shatterdome was cracked straight from its center down to the ground. People we spilling from it, moving in a panicked fluid around Hermann’s small collective.

“I’m going,” said Newton, lifting his head. He shifted Isaac back into Hermann’s arms, “you’re right, Vanessa should stay up here, she’s too badly injured. But I’m not. And I can help. And rescue crews won’t be here for too long.”

Hermann opened his mouth to protest, more of a gut reaction that he ever should allow himself. But he was tired. And scared.

“Doctor Geizsler, if you do something that idiotic I’ll confine you to your quarters for a month. The rescue crew will be here in five minutes, and none of them know the first thing about Kaiju blue contamination. You, Lt. Kaidanovskaya, and Doctor Gottleib will advise them on the specific risks they are about to face. Once Mako and Tendo finish shutting down Cherno Alpha’s reactor, they will join you to advise on the risks of the Jager equipment.”

Hermann gazed up at Hercules Hanson. Clean of dust, uninjured, cutting an imposing figure against the red-orange particulate filled sky, the black shapes of helicopters growing behind him...Hermann would gladly have fulfilled his most carnal wishes, in that moment.

Newton’s head returned to Hermann’s shoulder, warm and heavy, melting Hermann’s ramrod straight posture. The stress of the last hour, and especially last few minutes hit him, and he felt very unwelcome tears burn, tremors hitting his hands.

...

Why had Cherno Alpha's reactor been running?


	3. Definition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several things come to a head, and Newton experiences the an unpleasant non-physical side effect of the drift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while mostly because I was doing TEH RESEARCH for the next chapter...

Newton yawned, frowning. What had woken him. He was absolutely perfectly comfortable. His shoulder hurt a little, that was it. More than a little.

“Sir?”

“Hmm?”

His hands were finding a slight, warm weight on his chest. It was unmistakably Isaac.

“Are you Doctor Geiszler?”

“Yes. Newt, actually.”

Carefully, he sat up with Hermann’s baby on his shoulder. The hospital. Vanessa was in the burn unit. Hermann had been off...somewhere. Newton wondered if he was concussed, he felt like something was turned off in his own brain.

“A, um, Doctor Gottleib has been paging you for about an hour.”

“Oh. Can you, like...page him back? I’m not so great at search and rescue,” he waved his folded cane in what he assumed to be her line of sight. Not that, of course, he wouldn’t have tried his darndest yesterday.

“Oh! Yes, of course.”

She left.

Newton comforted Isaac, who was stirring. A content gurgle followed the insertion of a pacifier.

He felt the tendrils of Hermann, heard unsteady footsteps, and raised his head. Fast  
breathing, and surprisingly, a pair of badly shaking hands on his shoulders announced the formal arrival of his colleague.

“Newton,” Hermann gasped.

“I’m right here, dude. Isaac’s fine and everything, I’m not incompetent.”

Hermann grunted and his right hand pulled harder than the left, as he kept himself from falling. Newt reached out, gripping his waist with both hands, steadying him, “easy. Come on, sit down before you squish your baby.”

Hermann complied abruptly, landing on his behind with a soft thump and surprised grunt.

“No, on the...”

Newt sighed, and slid onto the floor himself, leaving Isaac to fuss momentarily on the warm but stiff cushions, as he wrapped his arms around his friend.

Hermann leaned into him, sighing.

“I couldn’t find you.”

“You probably passed me and thought I was just some tattooed homeless guy,” joked Newton for lack of anything better to say. A strange idea filtered through Hermann’s irritation at losing him, had to be a bit coming from the kaiju, that Hermann kept calling them his “collective”.

“Isaac is going to need to eat soon.”

Hermann nodded into Newt’s shoulder, then hid his face entirely in Newt’s neck, “scheisse. People are staring.”

“Because there’s two dirty, injured dudes having a heartfelt embrace on the floor. With a baby. I’d stare too, and I’m blind. So what? Do you have formula or something?”

Hermann swallowed next to Newt’s ear, “no, but Vanessa thought the gift shop might sell it.”

“So she’s doing well?

Hermann nodded, slowly letting go, “yes. It will hurt very much, but she isn’t in danger. Right now she’s drugged to the gills, actually. She’s suggesting...strange things.”

Newt giggled, and reached to pick up Isaac, then frowned, “is she going to be able to keep her job?”

He heard Hermann shrug, “she’s a six foot tall woman who actually possesses hips, and is missing half a leg. She made her own way to start with. But...I do not know for certain.”

Some burning feeling was emanating from the other man, but he was trying to hide it.

“If she’s going to be fine, why are you upset?”

“I...fell thrice on the way here. It is frustrating.”

“Thrice? Seriously?”

“That is the correct word,” Hermann sniffed, and Newt imagined his nose in the air.

Newt held Isaac on his shoulder, as he stood, “you won’t fall again.”

Hermann’s arm snaked around his, and he was surprised to find fingers niggling at his wristwatch, the taller man’s hand hanging slightly above that level naturally. It spoke the time, and Hermann let go with a twitch.

“You could have asked how it worked.”

“I was not attempting to operate your watch. I was merely fidgeting.”

“Why are you so on edge, dude?”

“Because I could not _find you_ ,” hissed Hermann, then almost as an afterthought, “you _idiot_.”

Newton beamed. Coming from Hermann, especially in anger, that was such a complement...

 

Newt sighed, giving up. He had tried, and tried, and he had gotten shit for his trouble.

Literally gotten shit, for his trouble; changing a diaper was harder than he would have expected.

“Would you...like...assistance?” Hermann’s voice was tight, and Newt thought for a moment he was pissed at the botched job with his son...then realized he was feeling gobs of amusement through their link. Hermann thought this was hilarious.

Newt grinned, sheepishly, “yes.”

Hermann’s heat was at his side, and he started to back away, but Hermann’s hand caught his wrist, then slid down to pull against just two of his fingers. He let Hermann position his hands, gripping little tabs, and stretching elastic, and tucking things into place. Isaac was fortuitously patient and just giggled when Hermann lifted him and fitted him into the baby sling on Hermann’s front. Newt wished he could see that. It’s already the funniest thing, and he imagined the visual would be side-splitting.

Hermann’s desire for Newt’s arm went unspoken but nevertheless acted upon. Newt grinned, and linked elbows with his friend, cane still out because Hermann really sucked at warning about things like steps, walls, corners, poles, carts, people...it had only been four months since the “splash” and Newt had little bumps and scars all up and down his shins from Hermann-precipitated collisions.

Hermann pulled them out of the bathroom, and steered around a corner. Isaac was giggling at something. Hermann was about as happy as he got. Newt was happy. Hermann wished Vanessa was with them. Newt almost did too, mostly for Hermann. He tightened his arm slightly around his friend’s own, and sighed without meaning to.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just tired. So, diapers and more clothes?”

“Yes. Here, the cart is to your left.”

Hermann let go, and Newt swung his cane in a constricted arc, which located the cart. He pulled it after Hermann’s sounds, and Isaac’s beginnings of a mood.

“Do you think this is too rough?”

Hermann pressed down-soft cloth into Newt’s hands. He laughed, “no, Hermann, it’s fine.”

“I’m not sure.”

Hermann snatched it away. Newt reached out, exploring the shelves with both hands, his cane propped against his shoulder. Something fluffier, silkier than he had imagined could exist in the world met his palms, and he pulled it from the shelf, “would this fit? The whole section is for his age, right?”

Hermann did nothing for a moment, then the garment was lifted from Newt’s hands, “it’s definitely soft... but, um–“

“Oh, does the little man have a sister? Are they twins? That’s so adorable!”

Newt heard Hermann turn, but did not do so himself. Between cart and cane he didn’t have much confidence in his ability to not whack their fellow patron with something.

“No, just him.”

“Oh. Right. Well. I hope he doesn’t turn out...well.”

Newt heard her move off, “it’s pink, isn’t it?”

But Hermann didn’t answer him. In fact he left. Newt stood for a moment, surprised, then abandoned the cart and followed.

“Turn out what?”

Newt felt sick in the pit of his stomach, coming off Hermann in hot, suffocating waves.

Newt reached his friend, found one wingtip-clad foot with a sweep of his cane, and wrapped his hands around his partner’s bicep. Hermann was standing ramrod straight.

“Well. Gay. Or...queer. Odd. Really, it wasn’t my place.”

“Damn right it wasn’t,” muttered Newt, but he was less irritated at one annoying lady and more preoccupied by the complexity and depth of Hermann’s reaction to a rude, but offhanded remark from a perfect stranger. Hermann is almost quivering with anxiety, and hurt, and what Newt is almost ready to describe as hate.

“So what if he does. So what if he wears dresses or loves men. He’s my son. Or my daughter, or neither. And you are terrible person for implying that I would love him any less if he were anything other than... _normal_.” Hermann practically spit as he spoke.

Newt leaned, hip purposefully heavy against his friend’s. He was sweating. Hermann fell silent. The woman fled. Isaac started to cry. Hermann slumped. They paid, and left. Hermann bought the pink shirt.

Even with Hermann’s weight against his shoulder, as they trekked back to the bus stop, Newt felt light as air. He understood that today, Hermann’s feelings on the matter were to say the least conflicted. But they were conflicted. Not one note–not hateful. And he had bought the shirt.

Hermann’s stated attitude for the better part of a decade had been that there were men and women, and while he didn’t mind which combination they decided to pair off in, he was entirely disinterested in examining the issue any further than that. And would prefer anything challenging that clear-cut presentation to stay compartmentalized somewhere not having to do with him.

But from the blast of ingrained reactions Newt had been subjected to in the store, he was starting to suspect he should be more mad at Lars Gottleib, and less wary of Hermann.

 

Vanessa was released from the hospital that Wednesday. Newt went to a meeting with what remained of the shatterdome administration and jager program–Hercules Hanson, Tendo, Mako, Raleigh and the Kaidanovskys. Most of the rest had been dispersed to other facilities, and even that small crew would be heading out soon.

Newt did not know where he and Hermann would go–most of his samples had been destroyed, so the amount of direct research he could actually do was reduced. He might have some luck at one of the universities gifted with some samples at the end of the war. Hermann wasn’t so limited–he needed a chalkboard and a sufficiently badass computer, and he was pretty much set.

The meeting was long, and boring, and mostly comprised worries about the dismantling process for the destroyed shatterdome. The plan for how to get Cherno Alpha out was the simplest part–fire it up and have the Kaidanovskys walk out the side, widening the vertical crack in the dome proper as they did, to allow the large cranes access to the interior. Newt and Raleigh were about to sob with boredom.

What nobody talked about was how Cherno Alpha had been running in the first place, for its cannon to go off. It wasn’t like the Kaidanovskys had been in it–it was in test mode, and they had been visiting Sasha’s parents in Magadan. Giving the code to turn it on was something a very limited number of people would have been able to do. Most of them were in that room. And whoever had actually pressed the keys and anyone who would have witnessed it was long dead in the blast.

Newt could have kissed Isaac when he started to cry, thereby excusing child and biologist from unending talks of concrete composition and one god-damned girder that would not hold any of the weight they needed it to.

He was surprised to hear huge footsteps follow him out.

“Little doctor. That is Dr. Gottleib’s child, yes?”

Newt nodded, “yes.”

“He is less angry than his father even now.”

Newt giggled, sitting down on the floor and digging in the baby bag for bottle warmer, formula, funnel, and bottle. Aleksis thumped down beside him, and Isaac stopped crying in surprise, for all of ten seconds.

“Marshal Hanson is going to ask a, er, chair? Of you and Dr. Gottleib tomorrow. To teach for the PPDC academy in California. We know other schools are asking you. That is a waste. The things you will do that are remarkable did not end with the breach, and no school will have the deepness to support you well. We–Sasha and I and also our Fatherland would like you and Dr. Gottleib to come to home with us. Our Fatherland is wanting to give you very deep support.”

Newt could hear a smile in the large man’s voice, “Sasha and I wanted to offer. I asked our okay. Sasha’s asking is not asking.”

Newt laughed, as he finally got a warm bottle into his friend’s son’s suddenly silent mouth.

“We were told if we did not bring you home with us we would be very in trouble.”

“I would love to. But I can’t answer for Hermann. And I don’t think I can say yes if he says no.”

“I understand,” Aleksis’s expansive hand weighed on Newt’s shoulder, “let me take you back to your hotel.”

“I’m fine, I can get a cab and stuff.”

“No. _Let me_ take you.”

Newt laughed, “you mean get you out of the rest of the meeting.”

“Please.”

“Yeah dude.”

 

“I do not think I should go with you.”

“What?” of all the responses Newt had expected, the idea that he would leave and Hermann wouldn’t...

“I don’t want to go if you don’t come, Hermann.”

Hermann sighs, and lays a hand gently on Newt’s shoulder, “it isn’t that I don’t want the opportunity–or that I don’t want to work there with you. All of that sounds...just amazing.”

“Then...”

And Newt gets it, through the drift. Hermann’s thoughts. Hermann’s love.

“The feelings I have for you have developed. We are sharing minds, and I know... I know you have feelings for me. But I am married. So I will not come with you, unless we step back. Both of us.”

Newt didn’t answer. He just nodded, and walked away.

An hour later, he heard hesitant, limping footsteps at his door, and shut his mouth, refusing to cry until Hermann left. Waves of panic and regret flooded him, emanating from his lab partner.

Hermann didn’t knock, and after a few minutes, walked away.

He knew it hadn’t been strictly, plainly platonic. But he knew Hermann would never have overstepped _that_ kind of boundary. He never would have asked him to. Newton wouldn’t have, even if Hermann had asked. Newton might be hurting and jealous, but in time he would have moved on.

If it hadn’t been for the drift bond, they probably could have gone on as they had.


	4. Novosibirsk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermann and Vanessa join Newt and the Kaidanovksys in Russia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much of the information about Russian apartments came from this awesome article: http://russianreport.wordpress.com/come-to-russia-get-a-visa/life-in-russian-housing/

Hermann stood in the wind, his jacket flapping around him, cane planted between his feet, as he admired the jumphawk that had ferried them from the Vladivostok airport to Novosibirsk. They could have just as easily caught a flight directly into Novosibirsk, since it too had an international airport, but their new sponsors had decided that wouldn’t make quite as much of an impression as landing in one of the definitive symbols of the Jager program.

Wondering what had become of his wife, friend and child, he turned just in time to see Newt waving wildly with Vanessa’s backpack, his unencumbered hand on her arm. Vanessa was shaking her head, smiling patiently as she talked to him She dragged Isaac along by one hand to prevent the toddler wandering back to the “fly!” Hermann ambled over, to see what brilliant idea Newt had this time.

“I know it’s summer _now_ , but it’ll get cold in like, what, two months? You should have a real coat.”

Hermann stopped, maybe ten paces from his family and friend. Despite the wind, warmth flooded his cheeks and chest.

It was a gesture. Granted, a clumsy one as, as Vanessa had said, it was summer. But one that meant a lot.

Newt had left for Russia eight months earlier, flying out with the Kaidanovskys to consult on their new research facilities. In the month before he had left, Hermann had barely been able to be in the same room with him. Hermann prided himself on having a handle on his emotions. Newton clearly had no such compunction.

But now he barely got anything from the younger doctor. And Newt was trying desperately to welcome Vanessa.

“They’re predicting a cold snap this week, so that probably makes sense,” agreed Hermann, as he finally walked forward to join the other three.

Newt turned to him, beaming. Hermann did not feel his relief. All he got was muted pleasantness. He didn’t think Newton would have suddenly learned to hide his feelings mentally, so maybe the drift bond was finally fading.

 

Hermann pulled Isaac back from trying to climb through the window to the front of the cab, for the fifth time, seated him on his lap, and bounced him. Isaac gave him a disapproving look, and tried again.

“Basically, our new labs are in Akademgorodok, which was like a soviet science city, but it’s only kind of a separate thing, and the housing there is pretty limited, so Novosibirsk made more sense. I mean you guys can obviously live wherever you want, but I like it here. By like 2020, so many people were moving here, ‘cause it’s like one of the biggest, farthest inland cities in the world, that it really started to boom–for Russians and for tourists.”

The cab finally, mercifully stopped, and Vanessa pulled Isaac out, while Hermann climbed out the other side, after Newton. They were in front of a bright blue and orange structure, of brutalistic architecture.

Newton unlocked and opened his heavy metal door–with three deadbolts, for some reason–and gestured them inside. Hermann walked in past him, and looked around. It was far less messy than any of Newton’s shatterdome quarters had been–but then he supposed it had to be so Newton wasn’t perpetually tripping over his belongings. It was also very small. Newton gestured to a shoe rack, with five sets of slippers on the top, “it’s normal here, I guess.”

Hermann eyed the slippers. Three of the sets were the same size, one was huge, and one was brand new and child-sized. Hermann helped Isaac change shoes for slippers–which were happily received as they were styled as airplanes, complete with floppy wings.

“Anyway, there’s kind of just one big room, and then there’s the kitchen, bathroom and toilet.”

He gestured in the vague direction of each, as they came down the hall into what looked like a combination of bedroom and livingroom. It was oddly welcoming, even if the walls were a bit shabby, and there was just two couches next to each other and a desk. Things were in boxes labeled in Russian all over the room.

“I know you’re probably tired, but there’s a really amazing concert later tonight, if you’re interested.”

“We actually stayed at Vladivostok for two days after coming in from Hong Kong, so I’m definitely up for it,” answered Vanessa, elbowing Hermann before he could beg off.

Newton’s face lit up, and Hermann felt bad for wanting to say no. He just felt out of place and uncertain, and they hadn’t really had a chance to settle into a new way of relating before Newton had left for Russia.

“Great–and don’t worry Hermann, you aren’t the only one being dragged.”

“Hmm?”

“Aleksis hates the opera house–he doesn’t really fit in the seats. But he’ll shut up once the music starts.”

Hermann wasn’t certain he’d ever seen Aleksis be anything other than shut up, but that wasn’t his chief question, “The Kaidanovskys are coming too?”

Newton tilted his head a little, “um, yes. Sorry, I didn’t think to explain that. If you don’t want to come that’s fine.”

“You spend a lot of time with them?”

Newton frowned, a little crestfallen, and Vanessa elbowed Hermann harder.

“We...um...apartments in Russia are often shared. So we share this one. And, I mean, what did you expect, that I wouldn’t make friends? Or spend time with people I already like?”

“No. It’s fine. I didn’t mean to...”

Newton sighed, but moved on, “anyway, the couches fold out into beds. You’re welcome to stay here, or I’m sure Dr. Orlova would get you a hotel. We should call her now, though, if you want to do that. She’s gotta come in around 2am to check on her experiments so she’ll be going to bed pretty soon.”

“We’ll stay here for the night, and then get a hotel tomorrow?”

Newton smiled, “just as long as you’re not staying to make up for Hermann being a butt. It’s a small apartment and you don’t know everyone very well.”

Hermann would have been flabbergasted by Newton’s apparent development of tact, but was distracted by the door opening behind them. Sasha and Aleksis Kaidanovsky tromped in.

Sasha stopped, blinked. Aleksis halted as well, but he was more impassive than his wife.

Isaac waddled up to Aleksis, craned his little head back, and informed the large Russian, “big.”

 

Some undefined tension broken, Sasha walked to Newton, slung her arm around him, and faced Hermann and Vanessa, “we are glad to have you return to our country.”

She leaned on Newton, who grinned under her pressure as she asked him, “did you ask them to come tonight, zaychik moy?”

“Yes. They’re coming. But I think I should call Nadezhda to find them a hotel, before we go?”

Hermann looked at Vanessa, and she nodded. He looked back at Newton and Sasha, “thank you.”

“Fly,” stated Isaac, now sitting atop Aleksis’s lofty shoulders.

 

It was a very enjoyable concert–thankfully not featuring Ukrainian Hard house in any way, shape or form. Isaac fell asleep halfway through, mercifully. Hermann actually had a good time, his son curled in his lap, his wife and friend on either side of him. On Newton’s far side was Sasha, and to her right was Aleksis, sitting on the aisle steps instead of cramming into one of the seats. Someone came by at one point to inform him of the fire code violation, but found him rather too intimidating to chastize and fled.

At the end, they walked out, moving in a fluid, but staying mostly together. Reflexively, Hermann reached out to Newton, knowing he wouldn’t be able to navigate well in the crowd. Hermann let his hand fall, however, when he saw Aleksis’s own between Newton’s shoulders, as the larger Russian cleared their way through the crowd with only a scowl.

They flagged down two cabs, standing in the crisp summer evening with people continuing to spill from the doors of the opera house, flowing around them into the night.

“That was very...enjoyable. Thank you for inviting us.”

Hermann knew he couldn’t sound more awkward if he tried.

Newton stepped toward him, flailed for a moment, found his shoulder, and hugged him tight, burying his face in Hermann’s shoulder, “it’s really great that you’re here, Hermann. I missed you a lot.”

Hermann melted, wrapping his free arm around his friend’s waist, as he used the other to plant his cane firmly against the younger man’s weight.

“I missed you too.”

Newton squeezed hard, and let go, stepping back. Sasha grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the way of one of the final groups coming down the steps. Hermann got in the cab, followed by Vanessa with the still-sleeping Isaac.

 

Their labs were in a three story building, with a rounded front, screened by tall evergreens. Hermann eyed the sign at the front–something to do with combustion, “Newton, you said your research had changed, but, um...”

Newt turned to him, “what?”

“Are you working with explosives?” he really did try to sound less than terrified.

“Ha! I wish. No, the Institute of Chemical Kinetics and Combustion was moved to a larger facility in 2019, under the support of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps. Most of the space in here has been used as overflow by the University since then.”

Hermann followed Newton through the entrance, up one floor in an elevator, and around a corner.

“This is your lab,” explained Newt, as he slid the reinforced door back. A chalkboard the equal of the one at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, and a computer that made Hermann drool was inside.

He frowned, “you’re, um...in a different lab?”

Newton grinned, “that wall retracts. Mine is on the other side. Some of what I’ve been doing is, um, loud. So they put in a soundproof partition.”

Newton gently pulled on Hermann’s arm, “and I’ll explain a little more when we’re in my side, okay?”

Hermann nodded, slowly, and inspected his work station in more detail. There was jam on the keyboard. He snorted. Yes, he was still sharing a lab with Newton.

 

They went through the door in the partition, and Hermann stopped dead. Heaps and tanks of kaiju entrails had been replaced by fifteen sets of pons, and all the monitoring equipment Hermann had ever seen in all the shatterdomes combined.

He gripped Newton’s shoulder, “what are you doing?”

Newton closed and locked the door behind them, went to the main door into the hall, and checked that one as well. Then he turned back to Hermann, “everyone who had the start code for Cherno Alpha underwent a secret intensive interview while in a FMRI. They could not lie without showing some signs of creative brain activity.”

“And? What did they discover?”

“Other than that Mako failed to submit a notification of a close and continuing relationship with Heather on the fire crew, nothing.”

“So somebody beat the MRI?”

“No. Somebody set off Cherno Alpha without knowing they had done so. Marshal Hanson, Raleigh, Mako, and the Kaidanovskys showed signs of unexplained activity in areas of the brain that have never been recorded to show significant electrical impulses, except during an active drift. None of them had drifted since V-K day or earlier. With the exception of Sasha and Aleksis, their drift hangovers have long since faded to the point where they should not have shown that much activity.”

Hermann swallowed, “someone controlled one of them to access Cherno Alpha. Maybe similar to when you experienced a drift in the Kaidanovsky’s quarters.”

Newton nodded, “that’s what I’m studying. The continuing access to anyone who has been exposed to the kaiju directly, following some functionality similar to a drift. My theory is that...they learned how to access humans, the same way we saw that they access each other, when you and I drifted with them.”

“But...why did they only access you?”

Newton laughed, “maybe they don’t like math? Or maybe something to do with the fact you never drifted with them individually, or your MS, or that you were never exposed physically to them, only mentally. That’s one of the questions I do want to answer. Finding out that might enable us to block them.”

“Can’t they access what you are studying, if they can access you?”

Newton nodded, “that is a possibility. But having anyone else do this research means telling someone else that a person high up in the PPDC can be controlled by the kaiju at will.”

“Who knows so far?”

“Myself, Sasha and Aleksis, and now you. Not even the people who did the FMRIs understood what they were looking at.”

“You told the Kaidanovskys?”

“They were in Russia, no communication came into the Shatterdome registered with either of their encryption keys. They didn’t even have cell service where they were. And besides, they are aware of what the other is doing at all times–they drifted together almost every day since 2016. They have a constant low level neural handshake. They share dreams, Hermann. If anyone holds the key to controlling this activity, it’s them.”

Hermann took a good, hard look at his friend. Newton was not good with secrets. He was good with excitement, and blathering on, and running around showing everyone he found whatever he thought was cool. He was good with lots of people, and constant validation.

He had been in this lab for eight months, working in secret, lying to everyone about what he was doing. Probably even the Kaidanovskys, for the most part.

Hermann reached impulsively, taking Newton’s hand, “what can I do to help?”

“I need to monitor you and Aleksis, while I drift with Sasha. I need to see how much that initiates drift activity in an inactive, versus active link. If you are not stimulated, but Aleksis is, the problem will resolve itself with time. If you are stimulated, or worse, it ends up as a four person drift... we really do have to find a way to block the precursors.”

“Okay.”

Newton nodded, and used an intercom on his desk to page the Kaidanovskys. He had to unlock the hallway door to let them in, and Hermann watched the two Russians without discussion to one pons and one monitor.

“See you in the drift, zaychik moy,” said Sasha, as she fitted the pons over her braided hair.

“What does that mean?” asked Hermann, as he followed Newton to one of the other monitors, and sat where indicated.

Newton didn’t answer, he was distracted activating the monitor, then moved off to his own pons, beside Sasha’s.

Hermann sank. Water bubbled around him, his lungs strained, the pressure inside growing by the moment. He opened his mouth, and air flooded out–precious life leaving in a frantic stream. A crunching sound, in his two selves. His other eyes opened, looked toward him, as bubbles blew from that mouth as well. Struggling, somehow combining two strengths, he activated the eject sequence, together.

Hermann was cold. Aleksis had gotten frustrated with his reports and broken their window in the middle of a Siberian winter. It wasn’t the first time–he did break things in anger. It scared Newt, but Sasha thought it was funny. Sasha opened the door to their apartment, backing in, with two large pieces of plywood. He got up to help her drag them in. She turned, kissed him lightly on the mouth, “it would help more if you got Aleksis to stop sulking, bunny. He’s outside.” Some recollection of previous carpentry failures confirmed the truth of this statement, and he went for his coat.

Hermann was warm. He drifted in warm water. A thumping, pulsing life surrounded him.

Hermann drifted. He was in a blue sea, his mind hurt. Something was wrong, where was Hermann? He tried to look around, tried to open his eyes. The antiverse stretched before him, figures loomed over him, their clicking and purring echoing oddly in the landscape of his mind. He shrunk away from them, but they seemed almost as put off by him as he was by them. They flinched and scattered, Newt turned his head to look at what had scared them, and melted with relief. Hermann, standing tall and straight. Hermann went to him, fisted his hands against taller figure’s chest, “why does it hurt? Why is it dark? Why can’t I see?”

Hermann opened his eyes. Light and dry air. Newton’s terrified face above his own, “Hermann. Hermann, come on, wake up.”

“His eyes are open, zaychik moy,” commented Sasha, from somewhere to the left, “Doctor Gottleib, can you hear us?”

Hermann nodded, unable to force any verbal answer.

Sasha gripped Newton’s shoulder, “he nodded.”

Newton slumped, head hanging, panicked tension leaving his shoulders. He was on his hands and knees, on top of Hermann. Hermann heaved on leaden limbs, until he managed to grip Newton’s right wrist. Hermann’s left hand would not cooperate, and laid limply against Newton’s hand. Newton lifted his head.

“Did you see....did you...”

“Yes. All of us. That was Newton’s splash? And you saw them there,” that was Aleksis.

“Our link was activated when I drifted with Sasha. You were brought into the drift, even after two years. You knew they were gone when I was unconscious after Cherno Alpha fired in the shatterdome. Anyone’s drift partner should have known if the precursors reached into them to the point where they could control their actions...”

Slowly, through the fog of shock and confusion of identity post-drift, cold settled, snakelike and sickening in Hermann’s chest, and the chests of the other three.

Hercules Hanson did not have a living drift partner. Marshal of the entire Asian region Pan Pacific Defense Force.


	5. Pigtails and Looming Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head

“I have to drift with you again. If I’m on another continent, there’s no way the Kaidanovskys will be able to sense if the precursors try to take me over. You being brought in to my drift with Sasha obviously hasn’t reactivated our old link–I can’t sense shit from you.”

Newt sat on Hermann and Vanessa’s hotel room bed, fidgeting with the wrist strap on his cane. Hermann stood opposite him, he knew. Vanessa was somewhere in the room, having put Isaac to bed, but doing her best to not intrude.

“I do not think that would be a good idea.”

“Why? Because of the precursors?”

“No.”

Newt bristled, “because you don’t want to know what its like to have sex with the Kaidanovskys? Sex is isn’t a bad thing, Hermann. And it was... really important to us.”

“Yes. No. I don’t want to know that! But that’s not. Obviously, you have trouble respecting boundaries with people you drift with.”

“I don’t!”

“Are you kidding–”

“Don’t yell at him, Hermann. He never overstepped, and it’s not his fault he has feelings for you.”

She paused, and Newt wondered just what looks were being exchanged in front of him, before she continued. “Clearly it would be better that someone else drift with Newton, since you’re having trouble with the idea. So I will do it.”

Newt nodded, slowly. He wasn’t exactly certain he wanted to drift with Vanessa.

She moved to stand in front of him, and picked up both his hands, squeezing gently, “I hope you will say yes. I want to help stop the Precursors. I but I also think it would be important in other ways. I think that we will all need to be able to support each other in the next few days. I don’t feel like I can help you much now, because of how difficult you and Hermann are.”

Hermann spluttered. Newt laughed a little.

“Okay,” Newt smiled, and started to get up.

“Wait. I think... I just want to say that I...”

Newt said down, waiting for Hermann to get his words out.

“I think that this is going to be a very difficult and dangerous time and I care a great deal for both of you, whatever may seem to get in the way of that.”

Newt stood and poked forward with his cane in an effort to find the dresser Hermann was leaning against. Vanessa touched his arm, and he followed her to her husband’s side. Vanessa hugged Hermann, and drew Newt closer by the wrist. Hermann held himself stiffly, but his breath eased, and he stood straighter, leaning against her rather than the dresser.

His arms came up, the right pulling Vanessa tight against himself. The left was less obedient, and his hand just curled loosely at the nape of Newt’s neck, as Newt stood about a foot away.

Hermann suddenly dropped towards Newt as his left leg buckled entirely.

Newt and Vanessa grabbed him instinctively, the hug turning into a catch.

“I’m sorry. I’m...having difficulty.”

Newt ducked under his compliant arm, “that’s okay, usually you just are difficulty.”

Hermann laughed, though it sounded a bit empty.

 

Newt struggled with adjusting the pons over Vanessa’s hair–she wore it loose and long and it kind of poofed everywhere, getting caught in the adjustment knobs. Finally he let go and turned his head, “Hermann, help. I’m going to pull half her hair out.”

Hermann did not respond.

“He fell asleep.”

Newt sighed thankfully. He kept working to get her hair untangled, “thank God.”

Vanessa laughed, her hands assisting Newt’s. Finally, the pons was free enough he could lift it off without removing half her scalp in the process.

“If you find a rubber band or something I’ll tie it back.”

“Yeah but I don’t think the helmet will fit over that. This was really poorly designed. I mean, like they didn’t expect anyone with curly hair to ever pilot a jaeger?”

“Well I guess if you’re a jaeger pilot rather than a model you might make different hairstyle choices.”

“True. Sasha braids hers... would that work?”

“Do you know how to braid hair, Newton?”

“...yes.”

He could hear the smile in her voice, as well as more than a bit of doubt, “okay, well give it a shot.”

She will be in his head as soon as they get the stupid helmet to work on her particular brand of human variation. And he thinks she will probably notice things Hermann brushed past–things that were probably essentially meaningless to him without explanation, and unlikely to click into his world view even if he did notice.

“I did. Um. I did braid my own hair when I was younger. Before I joined the PPDC.”

“You had long hair?”

“Not that long. Just short of shoulder length. In. Um. Pigtails.”

Vanessa took the helmet from his hands, “well then do pigtails. Try maybe a french braid, so it will be flatter?”

He grinned broadly, and complied.

He was halfway done, having had to go and get oil and come back, when Hermann woke up.

“Newton, are you...braiding my wife’s hair?”

“Yep,” replies Newt cheerily, “helmet won’t fit.”

Hermann grumped and did not comment further

Newt finished the braids with tight twists. Vanessa handed him the helmet, and he slid it onto her head. He adjusted the knobs, and stepped back, “is it sitting right?”

“Mmm-hmm,” answered Vanessa.

Newt nodded and went to his own pons, the same one he always used, and popped the helmet onto his head.

“Hermann, hit it.”

There was a brief pause, when he wondered if Hermann had fallen back to sleep, but then he heard a hum and _Vanessa_

When Newt drifted with Hermann, it was the first time he had drifted with another person. His impressions were of an alien mind to his own, entirely different ways of thought and understanding. There had also been the kaiju, so that probably intensified that feeling.

When he drifted with Aleksis, it was the emotionality that hit him. The stoic mountain of a man was head over heels for his wife, burning proudly with the knowledge that he was helping by drifting with Newt. Newt understood why Sasha wasn’t scared or upset when he got angry–she knew him as this broad range of a man and loved him for it.

Sasha was cold. Not unfeeling, but distant and cool. Engaged with laser focus when required and observing from high the rest of the time. Aloof and uninterested in the pettyness of people, she got warm and squishy near a very few things–Aleksis, Cherno Alpha, and rabbits. It was a private thing–not shamed, just private. Later, after more than twenty drifts, shared with her and him and Aleksis, Newt was somewhere in that list.

Vanessa had range like Aleksis, though she rarely stretched to the extremes that he reached so casually. She had the ability to hold herself wholly her own person, like Sasha. But that was hard won. She wasn’t distanced from others, she was absolutely mixed and bound with people. It was her own character through her interactions, her strength and confidence in herself that kept her glowing and _burning_ through anyone who tried to darken or extinguish her.

She reached into him, probing, genuinely curious for who he was. He opened himself. He would have done the same for Hermann, he had done the same to an extant for Sasha and Aleksis over time. But Vanessa had a love of _people_ –not who they showed, but who they _were_ –that was so evident in her sense of herself, it disarmed him totally.

She found the things he did not show. She was delighted by each of them. She wrapped herself in his love of flowing skirts, and passion for her husband. She found his trading cards and terrible band and held them like trophies. He felt offense at that. She gave him apology. He accepted. This was who she was, the absolute acceptance of anyone and the voyeurism that gave her pleasure and pride from knowledge of other people.

Then she was gone. Newt sat up straight, reeling. Hermann had shut down the drift without warning.

“Hermann, what the hell?”

“Newton, do either of the Kaidanovskys read Japanese?”

“No, why would you stop the drift to ask me that?”

“Because the monitor for your computer is displaying in Japanese.”

“Maybe that’s just the default. I’ve never used it, obviously.”

“But the Kaidanovskys have, right?”

“Yes. And...they would have had it set to Russian or English...”

“And someone changed it.”

Newt snatched the pons helmet off his head. He was slammed with a mix of cold fear and breathless excitement, and he wasn’t sure which came from him and which came from Vanessa.

She was beside him in a moment, grabbing his hand and towing him towards Hermann. Hermann, who was an _image._ Hermann’s fucking face. He didn’t look great. But his fucking face...

Newt stumbled. He wasn’t sure which of his legs wasn’t all there, which was a prosthetic from the knee down. He stopped, testing. Both were whole. This was very confusing. Vanessa squeezed his hand. He walked forward, then ran.

They reached Hermann. Hermann stood up, unsteadily, “we need to get to Hong Kong and stop whatever they are going to make the Marshal do. Vanessa, if you can get the portable neural interface, we’re probably going to have to force a drift with him to stop them...”

She did so, leaving Newt’s side and returning, lugging the heavy case. It was an invention of Newt and the Kaidanovskys four months ago, and it wasn’t exactly streamlined yet. Newt reached to Hermann, who took his hand.

Newt reached out, squeezing between all the fresh connection to Vanessa to follow the older but more familiar ones going to Sasha and Aleksis. He was going to try and warn them, but he was blocked out. Raging, violent anger in Aleksis, and furious determination in Sasha.

He came back to himself, “they tried to arrest Sasha and Aleksis. They are fighting near, um... I don’t know, it was just an image...I don’t know what anything looks like here.”

Vanessa was there, in his impressions from the Kaidanovskys.

“They’re just outside the front door. They must have been trying to warn us, they wouldn’t have been able to reach Newt while we were drifting.”

Hermann’s fingers tightened painfully on Newt’s hand, “what do we do? It’s not like any of us can really fight.”

Newt pulled his hand free and went to the desk, hauling out a case. Inside were two handguns, and what he assumed were appropriate ammunition, “these are Sasha’s. She used one of the projectile ranges left over from when this was a combustion lab for target practice when she got frustrated.”

“So what, we’re going to shoot PPDC staff just acting on orders? I’m not sure that’s going to end with us getting access to the Marshal!” Hermann was red in the face and trembling.

“This was a combustion lab?” asked Vanessa, much more quietly than her husband’s yelling.

Newt turned to her.

“Chemical kinetics and combustion.”

“So, is anything combustible or kinetic left?”

“The University got to keep everything they didn’t take when they moved to their new facility. It’s all in the basement.”


	6. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermann finds his stride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight TW for low self esteem and I guess existential crisis?

Hermann tightened his right hand’s grip on the portable pons. He did his best to hold onto Vanessa’s shirt with his left, though it was being supremely uncooperative, as was pretty much everything on that side. Which was why he was getting a piggyback ride from his wife in the first place.

Newton crouched at the door, their hastily assembled dirty bomb on the floor before him. Vanessa reached him, and he stood up, helping Hermann down. She had been slowed by the balance issues presented by carrying roughly 200 pounds of husband and drift equipment on an artificial leg, but it would have been far slower if Hermann had tried to walk.

She turned to Hermann, as Newt returned to the bomb. Her smile was as warm as any expression could ever hope to be, and she cupped his face with both beautiful brown hands, “you are an absurdly lovely man.”

He blinked at her, “why?”

“Hermann, I just drifted with a man who has spent a decade at your side. Who has loved you for most of that time. We’re also facing the end of the world and very likely our own deaths. You’re surprised I’m a bit passionate?”

Newton raised his head, flashing them both a big grin, “Vanessa, how am I supposed to arm a bomb, blind, with all that in your head?”

Vanessa laughed, and went to help him, her hand on his back, as she focused fiercely on looking at the bomb. It was seemingly enough help, as he quickly connected the last two wires, and stood up, “I’ll let the Sasha and Aleksis know to take cover now. We should do the same. I’ll set it off when we’re safe.”

Vanessa took his arm, and returned to Hermann’s side. Between Newton and Vanessa, Hermann made it around the corner fairly speedily, and into a large classroom. There was a rolling office chair the lectern. Hermann thumped into it, uncoordinated and dizzy. He watched his friend and his wife stand together, focused on the mobile phone trigger.

Vanessa left Newton, coming to hug Hermann tightly, as Newton set off the bomb.

Hermann reflected that his priorities really needed work. The sick, jealous feeling, as he watched the two was not appropriate to a life or death, end of the world scenario. But they were it. He loved his work, he loved the math and the miracles he had wrought with the handwriting of his fictive juvenile teddy-bear idea of God.

But they were what made it matter. If every day was mediocre or worse, if every moment was work... if the world was what he saw every day, ugly politics and lies and suffering and people wearing away day after day, straining and screaming against the darkness, the inevitable void.

He had trouble. He had very much trouble seeing beyond that to find any point. Any reason that his miracles mattered. Any reason that in the entire universe, it mattered that he made a tiny amount of progress on one equation that might some day lead to a model that could save all of disgusting, wretched, unfair, selfish humanity.

Vanessa’s warm hands on his cheeks. Her conviction to make the beauty in the world matter. Finding it in bodies and lighting, in far away cliffs she dragged him to. In her own self standing tall and shattering, defiant of small minds that said she wasn’t the most wondrous thing in the world. Her hope. Her _anger_.

Newton’s wonder at _everything_. His stupid, dorky face. His stupid, juvenile tattoos. His stupid face-splitting smile. His skirts, in private, in shame. That they mattered so much they made him love himself and hate himself. His scratchy voice going on and on for _hours_ , pitched high and loud and driving Hermann _insane_. His mind. The pure, sugar-rush pleasure that his body injected into his brain when he spent time with Hermann. The idea in his mind that by doing what Hermann was doing, by being what Hermann was, Hermann was impressing someone. Changing someone. Mattering.

That even if every thing he did seemed like throwing a grain of sand into the emptiness of space... all together, everything he was, everything he did... amounted to something _important._

His son. If their family picture, white and brown and in between made someone hate, he would punch them in the face, because that picture was amazing. What it represented, their lives, their family, was the most astounding thing in the universe.

If Isaac liked skirts, Hermann was ready to take on the world to defend it. To change everything in the universe so the one person who was half his own genetics could matter and bring light to the world just by being, without ever questioning that right.

Hermann scrubbed at his face. The door to the room slammed open. Sasha and Alekis stormed in, their shoes splattered in the kaiju blue the bomb had been built to disperse. .

“They are all still alive. You calculated right,” said Sasha, going to Newt to hug him.

Newt didn’t smile. Hermann understood why. They would all be blinded, most likely. They would probably all be burned and disfigured, there was no decontamination shower right there, like there had been when Newt had been splashed. Their lives were not over, but they would never be the same.

All for following orders. All because of Vanessa’s idea, Newt’s kaiju blue, and Hermann’s bomb design.

No. Because of the kaiju. Because of the precursors. Because of the beings who were trying to wipe them out. Were trying to take away their right to live. Were trying to say they didn’t matter, because they weren’t them.

Hermann burned. He stood up, wobbled, grabbed the back of the chair, “we have to get to Hong Kong.”

Aleksis turned to him, “how. We are wanted by all countries. We are to be arrested or killed on sight.”

“How did the soldiers get here?”

“A jumphawk,” answered Sasha, “but neither of us know how to fly it–we’re jaeger pilots only.”

Hermann straightened, standing taller than he had in years, “I do.”

“I’m pretty sure you need two working hands,” said Newt, quietly.

“Good thing you’ve got them.”

“I’m blind, Hermann. It doesn’t matter for a lot of things, but I’m pretty sure it does for flying a helicopter...”

“Vanessa’s not blind.”

“You’re talking about drifting, right? Vanessa only drifted with me yesterday, the neural stress from two brand new drift connections in as many days would be too much. We were lucky we didn’t die, on VK day...”

“Which is why I’m going to drift with you, and you rely on Vanessa and myself to fly. When we get to Hong Kong, the Kaidanovskys will drift with Marshall Hanson and force the precursors out.”

“Nobody drifts with too many people, but we’ll have five of us connected to fight the precursors,” mused Vanessa, “but you were adamant you wouldn’t drift with Newton again.”

Hermann swallowed.

“I love and...want...both of you and that’s not okay. I know there will be fall out. But this is more important than that.”

Vanessa looked at Newton. Newton turned toward her, frowning, “you’re excited?”

Something seemed to pass between them through the drift, Newton turned bright red, and they both faced Hermann.

“Hermann... it absolutely is okay,” said Vanessa, “I wish you had told me. I... would have told you some things. But I guess that’s both of our–”

“This is very nice but can we go save the world, please?” asked Sasha.

Newton grinned, and took Vanessa’s hand, as she picked up the portable pons, and stepped towards her husband. Hermann started to step towards her, and fell back into the seat.

“Aleksis, help him. We need to hurry.”

Hermann resigned himself to a slightly spoiled moment, and another piggyback ride.

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you have the time, please leave feedback. I started writing seven years ago, and it's been the crit from fantastic, amazing readers like you that helped bring me here from...well, this: http://badfic-quotes.livejournal.com/1027443.html#comments


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